


A Brave & Startling Truth

by CaptainCat



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 08:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21353206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCat/pseuds/CaptainCat
Summary: Daenerys, having successfully claimed The Iron Throne as hers, is looking for a way to unite the Seven Kingdoms. Sansa, having barely survived her time as Ramsay Bolton's wife, is just trying to stay alive. Clearly the best thing for both of them is to marry each other, as well as a man of no importance.Or, The One Where A Half-Hearted Marriage Proposal Turns Into a Story of Attempted Murders, Kidnapping, and Fluffy Smut.Sansa/Daenerys/Loras Political Marriage AU, with a Sansa/Daenerys endgame. (Honestly, Loras is barely even in the story. #SorryNotSorry)
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	A Brave & Startling Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I stumbled upon this chapter while organizing some files on my laptop. It was written in 2016 and isn't my best writing, but the premise ignited a level of excitement I haven't felt in a while! My current plan is to create a 10 part story of a political marriage AU.
> 
> The title of the work, "A Brave & Startling Truth", is from Maya Angelou's beautiful poem of the same name.

“I would like to make you my queen,” Daenerys spoke as if she was proposing the most natural thing in the world. “If you’re so willing, of course. I will not force a union upon you without your consent, Lady Stark.”

Sansa inhaled sharply, unsure if she should trust what she was hearing. Standing on the balcony of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Sansa couldn’t help but remember a previous moment when her preference for the gentler sex almost resulted in her death. Though it felt like a lifetime ago, it had been no more than 2 years earlier when Cersei Lannister stood in this very spot and questioned Sansa about her relationship with Margeary Tyrell. The familiar feeling of anxiety spreading through her, Sansa spoke carefully.

“It would be an honour to be your …queen, Your Grace,” Sansa’s words were quiet and demure, her voice as sweet as she could muster. Kings Landing was now a different world than the one Sansa learned to survive in years ago, but history taught her that the Gods favoured the cautious. Unsure of the young queen’s true intention, Sansa prepared herself to pass whatever type of test this was. “But I’m afraid that a marriage to me would not be able to provide you with an heir. Surely that would be unpleasing to the Gods, and to your people, all of whom long to see the Targeryan dynasty succeed.”

Purple eyes stared curiously at Sansa for a moment too long before the Queen let out a cold, dry chuckle. Unsure what had caused the mirthless laughter, Sansa swallowed thickly, prepared to say whatever it took to prove herself.

“I hope I haven’t offended you, Your Grace, but you must understand that your proposal is… not something a girl of my experiences would be expecting.” Sansa said quietly, her head bowed to show humility. It had been years since she had been forced to play the great game, but the skills were coming back to her quickly. Perhaps if they were in the North, with Jon and the army, she would forego manners and timidness, but here, in the walls of the castle that once held her prisoner, Sansa dare not risk it.

“I am not offended, Lady Stark. Simply amused.” Daenerys voice was suspiciously calm, paired with a sad smile that Sansa had not seen before. “I understand that during the time of the faith militant my request could’ve resulted in our death. But a dragon doesn’t bow to false Gods.”

There was a certain earnestness to Daenerys’s words that caught Sansa’s attention, leaving Tully blue eyes to stare at the dragon queen with curiosity.

“I am barren, Sansa. I will not produce an heir, no matter who I wed,” Daenerys closed the space between them by stepping forward and placing a hand lightly to Sansa’s shoulder. “Have you heard the stories of my family, Lady Stark? Should we wed, I will not be the first of my line to take more than one spouse.”

Sansa blinked, unsure of what Daenerys meant. Of course she had heard the history of House Targaryan, of Aegon the Conquerer and his two sister Queens…

“You intend to take a wife and a husband, Your Grace? To have them produce an heir on your behalf?” Sansa asked the questions cautiously and slowly, taking the time to feel each word on her tongue before it escaped her lips, her gaze focused on Daenerys’s face as she spoke. Despite her intimidating presence, Sansa found the Dragon Queen to be beautiful. She had a young face, petite features, and the prettiest eyes Sansa had ever had the pleasure of gazing upon.

“Very good, Lady Stark.” Daenerys nodded, a soft smile forming on her lips. “Specifically, a wife from the North and a husband from the South. What better way to unite a kingdom divided than through marriage with the Queen?”

Sansa nodded her understanding. “And if I refuse?”

“I’ll bare no ill will to you, house Stark, or the North. I have no plans on forging a union based on threats. Though I must admit, should you refuse my proposal I’ll be disappointed.” Daenerys leaned in as she spoke, tucking a strand of stray red hair behind Sansa’s ear. She was gentler than Sansa had imagined her to be.

“And if I accept? Whom shall I expect to join me in the marriage bed?” blue eyes found Daenerys’s purple ones, locking their gaze as the Queen slid her hand from Sansa’s hair to the necklace that hung on her chest.

“Me.” A smirk found its way to Daenerys’s lips as she moved her hand from Sansa's hair to her necklace, toying with the simple gold chain while Sansa blushed. Sansa had not expected the Queen to be so forward. “And Willas Tyrell.” Daenerys spoke his name as if it were of little importance, which Sansa supposed it wasn’t.

“Why not Jon?” Sansa asked suddenly, the mention of Tyrells leaving her with a familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. The real questions - _why not Margaery? Why choose Ramsay Bolton’s broken toy over a southern beauty? – _somehow managed to stay hidden as she sought for answers.

“Though he may be a king to the North, the rest of the realm sees Jon as a bastard with a weak claim.” There was a kindness in Daenerys’s voice that Sansa was grateful for. Jon was her brother, true-born or not.

“There’s also the matter of the Tyrell girl. Tyrion Lannister has informed me that you are much more trustworthy than Margaery Tyrell.”

Sansa swallowed thickly, understanding why Tyrion would be cautious of Margaery. She was nonetheless taken aback by his apparent willingness to recommend her to the queen though. Sansa had been less than kind to Tyrion during their marriage.

“You know that he and I were wed then?” Sansa asked.

“I do,” Daenerys replied. “Though I heard the marriage was never consummated, leaving you the true widow of Ramsay Bolton. I see no harm in marrying a widow, especially a young one with a sharp mind and pretty face.”

Sansa simply nodded, the reminder of Ramsay making her stomach lurch.

“So, what say you, Lady Sansa of House Stark? Do you accept?” Daenerys quirked an expecting eyebrow at Sansa, who was left wondering if anyone had ever said ‘no’ to the queen before.

“It would be a great honour, My Grace” Sansa curtsied, her head falling low out of habit when addressing a Queen on Cersei’s old balcony.

“Please, call me Daenerys.” Daenerys replied with an approving smile. “And might I address you as Sansa?”

“Of course, Your… Daenerys.” Sansa returned the queen’s smile as she corrected herself, causing Daenerys to let out a small laugh.

“I’ll instruct Ser Louis to see you returned safely to your chamber. Thank you for your company tonight, Sansa. And your agreement. Sleep well.” To Sansa’s surprise Daenerys placed a gentle kiss to her cheek, causing her to blush before bidding the queen – her betrothed – a small curtsey and a wish for a pleasant sleep.

As she walked back to her chamber, Ser Louis and some of his men at her side, Sansa found herself smiling. Perhaps, she thought, Kings Landing was not an entirely awful place.


End file.
